Lost Time
by Hikiri
Summary: The red string of fate connects the hearts of people around the world.  Even to hearts that should not feel.  So Bookmen, too, can be bound by it.  This is a story of a forgotten past.  One that the red string of fate will reawaken.  Lavi X OC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

I do, of course, own Taylor.

Night was falling and the crowds were dispersing towards their cozy homes while a petite girl with wild blonde curls stepped down from her milk crate podium. A small child, being practically dragged by an impatient father, stared at her 'til she smiled. His father finally grabbed the boy the scruff of his shirt neck and, though he berated his son, hid a look full of pride at his existence.

Every so often such a scene would present itself as she stopped her singing for the day, and a pinprick of pain would lace past her heart and through her lungs, to her eyes and then sometimes...sometimes, out her of them.

"Oi! Wench! Who said you could stop, eh?" Flinching and making sure her thick, painstakingly straightened bangs covered her eyes she turned to look at the man addressing her so obnoxiously. The man grunted in pain as his superior elbowed him, none to gently, in the ribs.

"Taylor, sweetie...what he means is that the night ain't done and there are still people here willing to tip for your beautiful voice. Now, I'm sure the boss could have other positions available assigned you easily. Though you would have to memorize quite a few positions to fit _that_ bill.

"He did have _such_ high hopes for you in this field though. So how about you get up there and do your job... Before I make you get down here and try another one." The gangster, who played the pimp with the other girls in the syndicate's charge, let out a guffaw at the terror and disgust apparent in the tight, straight line her lips formed and how stiff her limbs became.

"Oi! He's giving you a chance to use that pretty little mouth of yours the way _you_ want to."

Thusly treated, Taylor climbed back onto the milk crate that bruised her feet to sing the songs that were her only way out of reality.

It was nearly midnight when the last person left the dock for sleep. Stepping gingerly, a small blonde girl minced off her pedestal towards the darkness of the poor district. Her stride was slow and pained and her mind so consumed in her own misery that the pair of cat eyes following her devotedly was left unnoticed.

* * *

><p>Taylor was awake with the diminishing of the stars. It had been a long time since the gangsters and pimps caught her asleep and unawares. And the last time they did, it had marked them much more than her. The beating was still a raw memory though, lending an edge of self-perseverance to her morning schedule. <em>Self-perseverance huh?<em> She thought derisively. "At least I can sing."

She took her bath and the water she had for breakfast quickly, wasting no indulgences in the bathing water that was too cold and the drink long past room temperature. The dilapidated, half-rotting building this branch of the syndicate occupied sat in a rat-ridden district among people with boils on their faces and maggots in their hair. The advantage in being here was strictly locational. One direction of the road led to the docks, the other to the square. Not that any of the girls went down the town-side way. _Not even me._ "Maybe today though."

There were three guard posts on the way to the city. One had Bobby and Frank on duty most days, and those blokes were as dumb as doorknobs and lazy as ones in need of oil. Taylor could generally pass these guys up with ease, and so as their eyes followed some dame's tail, the singer slipped past a pile of crates in the opposite direction of the sloppy men's gazes.

_Check one._

The next post was manned by Twiller and Sooth, two of the higher ups in security. The trick was to catch them arguing or cause some sort of distraction to get them going. But they usually yelled at each other over little things so it generally paid to wait it out. "Now I don't want ANY shenanigans out of you two...The Boss is making a tour 'round here today. Not a peep you hear!"

_Shit. _The fear of the head guy was so strong that they wouldn't be fighting at all. _But . . . maybe... _Taylor followed the one ordering Twiller and Sooth around thinking quick. He seemed to be older than the others, a bald patch forming on the back of his head. His suit was too loose, and his after shave was too strong

* * *

><p>The Branch Leader of the Broken Sign Syndicate detested being awake anywhere between the time the sun dawned till it disappeared. There was no heavy tavern business in the day, and whores did not sell till the night hour could hide customers from the judgmental eyes of common society.<p>

There were only two things that kept the man awake during the bright hours. One: life threatening situations. A fire, a flood, an enemy raid, things like that. Two: A visit from the head honcho. A visit from The Boss, though, could be a life threatening situation, so all in all one thing kept him up.

It was out of season for The Boss to come to this sector too.

The Branch Leader wiped a few dots of sweat from his brow while he waited in mounting trepidation, but finally his right hand, Perry, sauntered back in, trying not to show fear to the man lead into the littered and dusty room he slept and did business in.

"I do hope that she is on her way, then, Dominick." The Boss said in a way that was more of a lazy demand then a sociable comment, to which the Branch Leader nodded, vigorous in his fear.

"As soon as we can find her, sir. She tends to..."

"I do not like being made to wait. If I am, this branch might take some heavy hits as a reprimand." The threat made clear as the Boss fingered the warm wooded cudgel he used as both a walking and beating stick. "She had better hurry."

* * *

><p>Taylor hide behind some boxes around the corner from a couple gossiping city women, their disgusting garments reeking of body odor and the sour scent of spoiled milk. The aging man, who looked a bit familiar, though it was impossible to place, had gone through the door to the main building 10 minutes past. Doors through which no force in heaven or hell could bring her through.<p>

"Oh yes. I hear'd bout that. Seemed mighty standoffish, those people."

"Heard tell they were Exorcists."

"You don' say...quite young to be workin for ta church there though."

"Mmm yes and a girl there too."

"Pretty little thing I suppose."

"Don' be sayin that round this block now. They migh be lookin for more gals..."

"Watch yer words!" The two chatterers turned and walked past the corner that had separated them from Taylor, upon whom seeing they screamed.

Immediately security was on them, and, as Taylor tried to break a dash for it, Soothe snatched the waist of her tattered skirt, bringing her crashing down to the ground. "We was just looking fer you, pretty singer."

Taylor knew and felt the truest of fears then.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

I do, of course, own Taylor.

* * *

><p>Sitting in the dingy, dimly lit hall that lead to the main room of the Branch headquarters, Taylor fought a very strong urge to hum a song to ease her fears. Singing always calmed her, comforted her. But now...it seemed that fear was better for her. It gave her an edge, strength, clarity. Yes, fear was good...for now.<p>

"Bring her in" The dead tone of the Branch Leader's voice doubled that edge. There in the leader's chair, confident and stern, sat the Boss. He had a smug look on his face, like a cat that had just eaten a very big canary.

"You rang?" She couldn't quite keep the impudence from her voice, but for some reason it was overlooked.

"You're not gonna be singing anymore. Not after today. Not for the syndicate." Terror lashed at Taylor, leaving gashes of anguish and torment across her flesh. "As it stands," The Leader continued, "You have a new master."

"A...a what?"

"That would be me." The voiced was feminine and it seemed to purr. If the songstress weren't already terrified, she would have turned to see this new master. But she couldn't even force herself to move.

Instead she argued. "But you said! You said you would tell me what you knew about me, about my past, about who I was. You said if I stayed, did as you asked..."

The Boss himself was laughing at that as he managed to say, "Like we knew anything..."

At last, fear subsided, lending all its strength to anger, a pure rage that held no pause as Taylor launched herself forward at the man who had held her life with a lie.

As she jumped at him though, a sharp pain whipped around her leg, pulling her to the ground. "Enough." Her new master ordered. She sounded amused. Amused at Taylors angst, at her pain.

It certainly wouldn't be the last time.

* * *

><p>"Now tell me, pet, how do you feel about travel?" Without waiting for a response her master continued. "I need you to move around. We'll start you in Wicklow. Do you know where that is?"<p>

"No ma'am." Taylor replied quickly. If she wasn't quick she would be whipped. Her back still felt raw from her first week outside the syndicate. From when she learned not to run.

"Useless girl... just follow the coast. You'll have a horse. You need to hurry between cities. Stay there for a week, and I will send you a message on your next location. Don't talk to anyone other than thank you." She looked back to catch a quick nod from the songstress. "I have new clothes for you. They are already packed. Go, you have 15 minutes to be 3 miles away from here. The horse is in the stable around the corner."

The dismissal marked her timer, and Taylor knew better than to be caught closer than the set mark. Her master grabbed her by the arm and yanked viciously. "One more thing...stay at the dock for each city. Do not disobey me."

Tired, hungry, and lamenting the loss of feeling in her backside, Taylor tethered the shaggy mare, which had a surprisingly smooth gait, to a stall in the local stable and made her way towards a ramshackle inn.

Making haste, Taylor signed in and placed her luggage in the cramped room that would be her home for the week. She wasn't expecting much, so the space that could barely hold the bed and wash bin was like a heaven. For God's sake there was a wash bin. In her room.

Using it quickly, the songstress opened the suitcase that held her new clothes. She was star stuck. The first dress was the most beautiful she ever touched. Made of thick cotton, the skirt flared out like a rusted bell. The bodice was red brocade with russet and green paisley stitched into the fabric. Without thinking to look twice at the other likewise beautiful collection, Taylor shrugged into it, tying the bodice tight.

Stares she had never received followed her on the way to the docks, which were much...more than the ones back home. Larger, more crowded, fancier. Everything was bright and clean. Looking around she found a bench near the middle of the busiest area. Placing her pail on the ground at her feet, she began to sing the first thing that came to mind.

* * *

><p>With a collective stretch six members of the Black Order made their way off a passenger liner into the bright sunny dock of Wicklow. "Well," one said, he had white hair and what looked like an inked tattoo around his left eye. "At least Kanda didn't pull Mugen this time." There was a smirk on his young face. He was goading someone.<p>

"You wanna go, Beansprout?" His target, a beautiful man with long hair so dark it seemed blue, and eyes to match shot back without hesitation.

"Now now," a pretty girl with indecently short hair and an even shorter skirt bravely stepped between them. "There are a lot of people around. Relax, breathe."

Meanwhile, an older man with white striped black hair and what looked like fangs was standing rigid, eyes darting here and there as if the crowds scared him. An even older man with kohl rimmed eyes stared right at her. His eyes seemed to bore into her soul, but she returned the gaze as evenly as she could. A muffled voice came from a blur of a man she had not noticed and the old man turned to look, leaving her eyes to their own.

"Gramps, what's with the look?" Lavi hadn't noticed the fuzzed shape of the singer standing by a bench in the middle of the dock, even though he had been searching the area for the source of the most beautiful voice. It was full of a melancholic sort of timbre. Rich with loss and at the same time, discovery.

_Later._ Bookman communicated through a link the Bookman Clan possessed amongst each other. Lavi nodded, preparing to grill his mentor at another time.

"We should get going." Lenalee prodded.

As they walked past her, the blur tossed a coin in her collection pail and for one second she saw him, almost like a flash of a dream, bright red hair, a green bandana holding it in place, and plain black eye patch. _It's different._

The thought flashed so fast through Taylor's mind that she barely caught it, unable to understand.

And then they were gone, melding in with the crowd heading towards the square. She wanted to follow, but the singers back twitched with a nasty reminder of her master's whip. _It was nice to see him. _

But the thought to her only meant that she had seen past the blur.

The flow of tips was greater and the night lighting on the dock much better then home. And since Taylor was standing both feet on the ground instead of some stupid grated milk crate, she stayed far longer than she had intended.

But the night came to a close in an anticlimactic way, considering it was her first day in Wicklow, and the girl practically skipped back to the hotel, glad for the lack of pain in her feet.

Taking a quick bath in warm water...warm, of all the luxuries, and changing into her night gown, Taylor crawled into the bed, which had good springs and no vermin. She drifted to sleep with a smile on her face.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

I do, of course, own Taylor.

* * *

><p>"Lavi?" Lenalee questioned for the umpteenth time. "Geeze, he's not paying attention."<br>"Not very Bookman-ish of him is it?" Krory asked tentatively.

Allen waved his hand in front of the red head's single eye, but it remained glossy, as if the mind behind it had left a vacancy for a bit. It was only when Bookman landed on his head with a flying kick that Lavi actually responded.

His surprised expression caused Lenalee to giggle as Allen lifted his palm to his face with a sigh. "Huh what? Did I miss something?"

"Food was done." Lenalee explained lamely. And as the hammer wielder looked around expectantly she finished her statement. "But Allen ate your share."

"Great..."

"Hey snooze ya lose, pal."

"Yuu," Lavi complained dragging the Swordsman into the fray, "Why didn't you stop him?"

"Tch." Kanda clicked, rolling his eyes. Pulling out his sword, Mugen, the attractive exorcist silenced the room. Aiming it at Lavi in a lunging stance he threatened, "What did I tell you about calling me that?"

"There is still some bread near the stove..." Krory pointed out, causing Lavi to charge over to the basket and grab up the two crusty end pieces to an otherwise devoured loaf. But as he did, his eyes went distant again.

_Bread...bread is made of ground down wheat and...wheat...wheat is a golden plant which grows in flat plains. _A sharp, quick image flashed through his memory. A golden field of wheat. Hair flying as they ran up a hill. Hair...whose hair? Golden, like the tall wheat hiding them from the clan. Spiraling hair, like loose strands of smoke.

This memory...looking towards the person beside him. Great grey eyes, calculating and observant. There was a scream and Lavi plummeted back to reality, the flash of the past slipping away as if it had never been dredged up.

His own scream. His own pain. His head felt like it was on fire as the Jr. Bookman dropped the crust he held and clutched at the forever unseeing eye behind his patch. Part of his mind, the part that ruthlessly forgot what he had briefly remembered, continued to observe everything around him. His comrades' worried expressions, Lenalee being held back by the old man as if she had tried to run to him. Gramps shaking his head at her. There was a cold glint to the man's eyes as Lavi couldn't take the pain anymore and passed out on the cold wooden floor.

* * *

><p><em>She had been here before. This familiar scenery, a nostalgic landscape. A wheat field made of paper and parchment, written tales and memories plastered indecipherable and vague on each leaf. There was never a moon here, but the innumerable stars shone with such radiance that it was not a necessity in the first place. <em>

_One of those stars shot westward across the sky...her dream sky. A line from a memory flashed past her mind, following the star. _

Dreaming is proof your alive.

_Another star, flying this time east, shot the same path across the laden sky as if it missed a meeting with his counterpart, lonely by a fated design. The memory continued, _

Bookmen don't dream.

_Someone was beside her then, unusual, deviating from the pattern of this repetitive place of solitude. _

_Taylor wanted to look, to see who was with her...Her, who was always so alone. But somehow she knew that if she did, this reality that was not would collapse. Waking her, leaving her alone again. _

_And for once she felt it would be okay to stay here forever. In the silence, tears shed by the feeling of loss always so close to her eyes slipped from them, star bound and distant. _

_A gruff, carefully quiet voice whispered close to her ear. "Close your eyes."_

_Knowing it would not last much longer, the lonely girl did as she was told. _

_The voice, loud enough to be tainted with his masculinity, and the hands turning her face too large and firm to be those of a woman granted her the knowledge that she was dreaming of a man. _

_As those somehow precious hands held her face still, there was a rustle of cloth and Taylor felt soft cotton wipe her tears away._

_"Look at me, just once, before we lose this." The command came from him gently, hesitantly. And unbidden she felt her eyes twitch and then open, both...even one long since closed and hidden, widening as they took in the bright green hue of the mystery man's gaze. _

_Both._

_His red hair framed his face, the normal bandana having been used to dry her show of sorrow._

_He touched her hand as the dream dissolved around them, his voice cheerful and energetic, hesitation gone as he whispered to her again. "Good morning."_

* * *

><p>Lavi would have liked to give into impulse and jolt awake, but he knew this dream, which was not a dream, could never be shared. Bookmen did not, could not dream. But the sleeping reality slowly left him bereft, the only reminders his faint, secretive smile, a few quickly drying tear drops soaked into the bandana in his hand. And soon even that was gone, leaving him to wonder why his headgear was in his hand.<p>

* * *

><p>"This is getting us nowhere!" Finally even Lenalee's patience was wearing thin. "This is the second place we have been, looking for the same Innocence with the same clues. Nothing!"<p>

"Well, Komui said we are getting recalled today, as soon as our ship comes in." Allen said with a strong sense of relief. "At least the port is better than that dingy place south of here. The one we caught a whiff of Lulubell in."  
>"We shoulda..." Krory began.<p>

"Not our job." Kanda stated aggressively.

"Welp..." Lavi began, hands behind his head as he walked. "Since we are leaving today, why not tour around a bit, you know have some fun."

Bookman dragged him by the ear a bit away from the group, much to the others' surprise. "Did you say that as a Bookman, or as an Exorcist?"

"Gee Gramps, I said it as an observant person who knows morale needs boosting. Give them their day."

Bookman just looked at Lavi with a long level gaze. But in the end he nodded.

Lavi walked back to the main group, and linking arms with Allen and Kanda, marched towards the city. Looking over his shoulder her shouted, "Lenalee, you coming?"

The bewildered look on the girls face disappeared as she ran towards the boys. "We'll be going on ahead...Bookman, Krory."  
>"Finally some peace...shall we find somewhere with a game of chess?"<p>

"Checkers if you please." Krory agreed.

Kanda, Allen, and Lavi indulged Lenalee with an hour of shopping as she bought candles, incense and teas from local merchants. With each step they got closer to the docks...the closer they got to the docks, the more restless Lavi became.

A hand on his shoulder stopped the observer with a start. "Lavi..." It was Lenalee; she was using her concerned voice. "How has your head been feeling?"

"My head?" Not knowing what the girl was talking about he brushed it off. "Oh that, I feel much better now." Thinking on all the places they had been in a split second, Lavi came up with a quick scheme. He had to see. "I do think I will get some pain medicine though, just in case. There is a pharmacy on the water side of this block."

"We'll go with you." Allen offered.

"No that's fine, you guys keep shopping...I'll find ya."

As he broke off in a light sprint, his companions shared a look of intrigued conspiracy. Without needing to speak their mutual understanding...Allen, Lenalee, and a begrudging Kanda followed their friend at a much slower pace.

It was the last day of her week in Wicklow, but while the prospect of travel had enthralled Taylor, she found herself loathe to leave. _I didn't get to see him again. Even if I am not allowed to talk to him...I want to see him. Once more. _

Today's dress was as brilliant as the other six had been, a smooth textured pink cloth with thick black swirls stitched up the stream lined skirt. A thicker, napped fabric fixed to a boned corset frame was the opposite. Pitch black, but with thick pink designs picked through carefully.

After straightening her bangs, as she always did, and checking the curls of her wild, windy locks, Taylor grabbed her collections pail and made her way to her now well-known spot on the docks. Many people gathered around her from previous days. It made Taylor feel a bit famed.

Her songs were never planned. She never knew which she would sing or if there would be a hidden melody that came to her as people looked on. So it didn't seem weird to her when a completed melody popped into her mind...the blur of a man standing at the edge of the crowd. She always sang with feeling, so it didn't seem weird that her song would be so strong.

The only thing Taylor found weird was that this nostalgic feeling...the feeling that the song was old as time to her...came upon her as she opened her mouth and sang.

_Sometimes life seems too quiet  
>Into paralyzing silence<br>Like the moonless dark  
>Meant to make me strong<em>

A dark, moonless night like the dreamed reality, the images there lending strength to her weary soul.

_Familiar breath of my old lies  
>Changed the color in my eyes<br>Soon he will perforate the fabric of the peaceful by and by_

Something important, lies...things she forgot, something to do with her eyes. He'll bring it all back.

_Sorrow lasts through this night  
>I'll take this piece of you<br>And hope for all eternity  
>For just one second I felt whole<br>As you flew right through me  
><em>

Taylor took a deep breath, but before she could continue a man in dark clothing and a cheese cloth mask barreled through the crowd and snagged the collection pail, knocking Taylor to the ground savagely. With the deep breath she still had in her lungs, Taylor screamed "Stop him!"

The response was instantaneous.

Four exorcists ran to Taylor, the female holding her protectively while the three men ran to catch up to the thief. There was a loud thud, and then a yelp. Kanda had Mugen at the man's throat while Lavi and Allen held him down. All four looked confused and slightly frightened. Lenalee picked up the pail and the coins that had fallen out of it during the brief struggle.

Bending down, the blur came in clearer. It reached out a slightly distorted hand, a smile on his fuzzed out face. And then, as if a loose cog got on its right track, she could see him. And hear him. She knew him. Flashes of a dream that had not been, red hair, green eyes. Eyes...both...wrong. There is a patch. "What did they do to you?" She could hear her voice as if it were still a dream. "It was supposed to be only me!"

As she struggled backwards her hair blew with the wind. As her hair blew her face became clear. A face missing an eye. A right eye. A right eye that didn't have a patch. Puckered red as if it had been burned. Like his.

People around her screamed. Their shocked looks of horror branding their ways into her mind, her memory. _run._ The instinct was stronger than it normally was. _Run. _She got to her feet. _RUN!_

And she did, she ran as fast as she could. She packed her clothes and necessities. But after she had donned her riding clothes and stepped into the stables, Taylor stopped..._"Stay there for a week, and I will send you a message on your next location."_

"I have nowhere to go now." Slumping down on a barrel of hay, the singer pulled her hair over her right eye more firmly. "Shit...SHIT!" Punching her hand down into the hay underneath her, Taylor began to cry with her good eye, and wished she could remember a time when she had cried with both.

* * *

><p><strong>Song used:<strong>

**Sorrow by Flyleaf.**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

I do, of course, own Taylor.

"Lavi...?" Lenalee's voice sounded close, like it was right in his ear, but the red head couldn't stop reeling. A series of snaps in front of his face sounded off crisply. A rough shake finally brought him 'round. _It was supposed to be only me!_

_What did that mean?_ Lavi, as a Bookman, had closely observed everything that had happened from the time he had walked onto the dock until the time the singer ran away. Everything was crystal clear in _that_ part of his mind, but Lavi, the human, was stuck on those words, and the face that told him she didn't get what she meant either.

He heard the old man coming. The kick the man with panda-like kohl rimmed eyes, aimed at his apprentices head was something Lavi could easily avoid. The air stirred as his mentor's foot flew towards him, a soft whistle created from the shape and contours of the man's shoe. But Lavi never felt the need to dodge. And Bookman knew this too. It was a silent bond; it was Bookman showing his concern or disapproval.

Allen and Kanda were spouting at each other as usual, Lavi quietly cataloged that with his Bookman mind, though it might not be worthy of a text it still occurred, its importance decided later. With a quick nod in her direction Lenalee made her way to them before violence could be threatened.

Without looking over, the young Bookman Jr. looked to his elder and said in a near whisper. "I think it's _later._"

Sitting on a bench in the full sunlight only the docks could provide in such a crowded city, the two scholars began to discuss that which had been saved for 'later'.

"I cannot tell you much, Lavi." Bookman began, which was shocking. Bookmen shared things freely among the clan. There were no secrets. But this reeked of lies and hidden knowledge. It freely oozed the feeling of secrets like blood from a diseased, congealed wound.

Knowing the general train of thought his apprentice was going through, Bookman did what he could to elaborate. "As you know, some things are in the seeing, the experiencing, not just the hearing. I can really only say this to you...That girl...she is not good for you. It would be dangerous to proceed with any communication, any actions. Remember at your own risk."

* * *

><p>Taylor was still sitting on the same bale of hay, shredding the top layer of it slowly but surely with hopeless fingers, when a dingy looking stable boy with a caked layer of manure spattered on his boots and heavily patched trousers timidly approached her.<p>

When he couldn't get her attention with gentle 'ahems' and throat clearings, the boy poked the crown of her head with a rough finger, the nail of which was chewed and split. She looked up, more apathetic then agitated, to see a letter in his hands.

"Message for you Miss. The writer told me to relay the message 'It's been a week.'"

Taylor grabbed at the envelope like it was some holy savior, her own personal Jesus. Opening it delicately, almost reverently, she noticed the thickness and weight of it.

"I'll be taking my leave then. Will the Miss need her horse?"

Taylor absently nodded. "The shaggy haired mare."

"Back of the stables I believe. She'll be ready soon."

Turning her full attention back to the now open envelope, the wild haired singer peaked in to find a small piece of paper with instructions and another smaller fold which held enough money for the next town's fees and boarding.

_Bray._

_Hoof and Whiskey Inn._

_There are new dresses there._

_I will visit in three days._

_Dock, no talking._

As her horse was lead to the front of the stables where she stood, Taylor felt lighter knowing that she would not have to show her now seen face to this town anymore. And as Taylor mounted her horse and goaded it into a light gallop, a look of clear relief gracing her face, the crudely dressed stable boy looked on with glowing cat eyes. _Good girl._

* * *

><p>The wait for their liner went by without excitement after the young girl with the destroyed eye and the beautiful voice ran away. Allen had been all for running after her, which had sparked the argument between him and the easily irritated swordsman.<p>

It had taken Lenalee the better part of an hour to settle them. It was in this time that Bookman had given his warning. _Remember at your own risk_.

It was during that uneventful wait that Lavi debated. It was not the debate on whether he should know or not. He _had _to. He had become a Bookman because of the strong, unquenchable thirst for knowledge he held. And he had learned many things. He had observed many things. Things that would never be known to history, things his clan alone would possess the knowledge of.

But he didn't know this. And it had to with him personally. How could he, Lavi the Human, not know something so close to his heart? How could he, Lavi the Bookman, ever not want to know anything.

_The old Panda won't tell me anything else, so that includes how to remember anything about the whole of it. What am I even supposed to remember? Where do I start? How do I start?_

A small ache began to form at the base of his skull as the ship rolled in and stopped his thoughts as he watched cargo being lifted, and passengers flowing, off of it, making way for the new load it would carry back to England.

* * *

><p>"Another mission?!"<p>

"Well," Komui began... "There is a shortage of Exorcists right now..."

"This will be the third in a row though Nii-san!"

"I think," Krory added, "What Miss Lenalee is trying to say is...uh, well..."

"We're all exhausted. I mean can't you give a couple of us leave? You know switch it up a bit?" Allen tried to put in. It seemed that they were ganging up on the Director anyway.

"Sorry Allen. Not with the Noah so active still. It's dangerous."

"If its how it is, it's how it is." Bookman agreed softly.

Kanda had dismissed the argument when it arose. Breaks were not something that he really needed anyway.

It was Lavi's silence which concerned the ever observing Bookman. _He is going to remember. _

A few hours later found the group of bone-tired and mostly disgruntled Exorcists on a ship, bound for Ireland again. This would be the third separate town the Order had sent them to in the country. All a few days walking distance from each other.

"Well, looking at the description, we are searching for the same Innocence as the previous few missions." Allen sighed a bit at the repetitive nature of their assignment.

"What's the matter Beansprout?" Lavi teased.

"It's ALLEN!" The response was typical but everyone always laughed anyway. "I'm going for a walk."

"Don't get lost..." Krory advised weakly.

Making sure no one was following him; Allen crept to the bottom level of the passenger's liner, pulling out a deck of cards with a hand-made ace. As he walked he shuffled, glancing about to see who noticed. Entering a small, box filled room near the brig; the Exorcist saw that there was already a small gathering of gamblers lounging against the cargo.

"What's your game fellas?"

The random group of ragtags all looked at him surprised. The card players had a 'milk-him-for-all-he's-worth' look in their eyes as he sat amongst them. "That'd be straight, seven card stud poker, duce wild. Set the minimum of the game with the bring-in, newbie."

Allen smiled in his mind while keeping hold of his poker face. Affecting a little nervousness he placed a $50 on the table. Another mental grin flashed at the wide greedy eyes of the man next to him..._They're gonna drop like flies._

* * *

><p>Kanda came walking back, stiff with agitation, "I found him."<p>

Lavi waved them to stay put, but Lenalee followed him to the depths of the ship, to the cargo area. Looking through the window in the room's door he chuckled.

"What?" Lenalee made to walk through the door while Lavi cautioned her, "You might not want to go in there..." But it was too late to stop her. As she backed away from the door she had opened, red faced with embarrassment and shock, the apprentice Bookman laughed again.

"Told ya."

There amongst a group of men clad only in underwear, sat Allen, still fully dressed, cutting a deck of cards with a hand-made ace with one hand and fanning his face with a huge stack of paper, which, upon closer inspection turned out to be money.

"Allen, what did you DO?" Lenalee asked horrified.

"Extra spending money," he answered flippantly. "Ooo and Lavi, this jacket should fit you...what do you think?"

"I like the style." Lavi admitted, hand stroking his chin. He caught it as the white haired boy threw it at him.

"You guys can have the rest back."

"What were you doing, you idiot, we're almost there!"

"Who asked you, BaKanda?" The gambler shot back.

The long haired swordsman made to unsheathe his weapon, but hearing a passenger gasp fearfully; he paused and then lowered his hand. "You're lucky as a cricket Beansprout."

"My name is Allen...You're so slow, almost as slow as that sword arm."

Bristling in rage Kanda reached for his sword, Mugen, again until Lenalee intervened chanting the mantra, 'we're on a boat, we're on a ship, there are people here.'

A scant half hour later, their transportation slowly pulled to port in the city of Bray. "Well its approaching sundown," Lenalee stated, taking charge as they walked off the liner. "We should probably find somewhere to spend the night."

As they started away from the dock though, a soft song, voice filled with emotion lifted above the crowd. "Hey, gramps..." Lavi mumbled, knowing Bookman would hear. With a slight inclination of the old man's head, Bookman Jr. was acknowledged. "That girl...She"

"..." The silence settled with Lavi like a plague

"You're being..."

"Hey, that girl, Lavi...She's the one from Wicklow right?" Allen's voice rose above the general hubbub and millings of the filled streets.

"Looks that way." Lavi tried his best to sound less cheerful then he was at the thought.

The others looked in the direction of Allen's point. Lenalee nodded, smiling, while Kanda clicked his tongue as if to point out how little he cared.

"Do you know her? Like, know who she is? Yet, I mean..." Krory questioned hesitantly.

"Not really, no. But I do know she means something."

"Oh?" Allen asked, looking for the reasoning behind the romantic, whimsical statement that was so unlike a Bookman to say.

"Yes Lavi, how _do_ you figure?" Bookman prodded a guarded look on his face.

"Uhhh, umm, it's - uh, I don't know."

"Tch"

"Oh come on Yuu, ever heard of a gut instinct? It's kinda nostalgic, I just know. Don't be so difficult!"

The others looked pacified but Bookman held back while they walked away. "Lavi?" The young man stopped, flinching a bit at the emotionless tone of his elder. "A Bookman does not have a 'gut instinct'. He doesn't 'just know'. Everything is based on the facts we record. Remember that before you blurt things out."

Lavi grumbled something under his breath, but it was let to slide. _He should just tell me already._

* * *

><p>The room was full of phones. Phones were constantly ringing, bringing news to a busy man. But for the moment he ignored them. "Well then, pet, what have you been doing ehhhh~~?" Grinning madly the whole while he beckoned to the woman until she left the shadows of the phone filled room and stepped into a bright spotlight.<p>

"I'm having some fun toying with a mouse." There was a slight seductive purr in her voice as the woman crossed her arms at her chest.

"Ehhhehhehh" The large man in his bulky overcoat and top hat laughed in approval. "Make sure you clean up your mess when you've finished~~."

"Of course my Lord Earl."

* * *

><p>Komui conceded to himself that he knew nothing of the ways of the two Exorcists from the Bookman Clan. He knew his own observations though. The boy had held himself subtly aloof when he joined the Black Order, as if being true comrades with the Order's Exorcists hadn't crossed his mind. As if he was a man apart.<p>

Looking back, the bespectacled Chinese man in his clean cut lab coat now realized _he probably is_. Or was rather.

Lavi had gone through many changes. He had opened up, and made what seemed to be true friendships with the others. His smiles seemed much more real as well.

Bookman seemed to have perfected living apart from his fellow man. It was true he was sociable and was well received. But if it were necessary for him to record history from another prospective the man would flip sides without hesitation. And Lavi would leave with him. It would be devastating to them all. Including the young man.

The tricky thing was that, probably because it was his job to train Lavi in the capacity of Bookman Jr., Bookman alluded to disapproval with the young man's ties and feelings.

Having heard, on one occasion, the elder Exorcists extoll to his apprentice, "The job of a Bookman is to record history impartially, we do not feel. We cannot grow attachments..." Komui felt bad for the kid.

Lavi never seemed phased by leading this double edged life, one where his friends held a great deal of importance, the other were he could not have friends. It was for this reason that Komui was concerned for that particular innocence bearer. The deadpan look on his face as assignments were given, no smile, no word in the ensuing plea and argument for time off. He just sat there, arms crossed, a vague look on his face as he stared off into space a bit.

_If my Lenalee ever had such a face, I would..._ But he knew that it wasn't comparable. There were things about the Bookman Clan that would forever lie in the realm of mystery. And though it shamed him, Komui admitted that he understood the need for all this iimpartiality in the historians.

_Someone so young though. But would it be crueler to raise a child to have emotion and friendship only to strip it of him at a later time? _

"Ours not to wonder." He murmured, exasperated as the head of the science division, Reever, ran in with a stack of paper work. And the director went back to his work.

* * *

><p>Something was nagging at her, dulling the back of her mind and clogging any thought possible. It was like an itch precisely between her shoulder blades. Impossible to reach. Taylor never liked this feeling, rare though it usually was. But since Wicklow this persistent feeling clung to her. And its cloying presence was unwelcome.<p>

Having made it to Bray in good time, the girl had took her time in the new room's wash bin. Soaking first her arms, then her feet, squeezing a relatively clean wash cloth over her shoulder, and rubbing in a soothing lather of suds into her slightly rough skin.

The warm water also soothed her still healing back, the whip marks still visible. Rough skin from her old job, her old life...whip marks from her new. _Such a pitiable existence._

Taylor shook her head violently as she dismissed that negativity. _I am alive. I can sing. That is all I need._

But a little voice born of her nagging feeling seemed to almost force itself into reality. _There was once so much more. _

Again she shook her head and donned another beautiful dress. She walked down the stairs from her room at the Hoof and Whiskey to the front door, blinking into the sunlight. Armed with an old, dented and worn tin pail, she walked to the docks, trying to keep her head high.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

It was past noon when clouds from the east began to darken the sky. They didn't last too long, but it was almost an omen to Lavi, who didn't really believe in such things. The meaning of whatever omen was being sent went over his head, and the junior Bookman chose to let it pass. The Bookman half of his mind recorded it and left the rest of him to contemplate memory.

He had researched several tomes on the way from the Order to Bray. None of them spoke of regaining lost memory. Not forcibly anyway. They were mostly medical books that his senior had stowed away in the back of his room, but all the material stated the same thing. Time.

* * *

><p>The clouds were finally starting to break when he approached. The man was younger than the normal tippers and, if she had to say one way or another, rather attractive. With jet black hair and eyes with the color and spark of sapphires, he certainly stood out in the sea of red hair and freckles.<p>

It was not at all weird to her that the man stayed to listen for the rest of the day, tipping for most songs, humming along to more repetitive tunes. He seemed mesmerized, staring at her the whole time, which distracted her eyes several times.

The day was uneventful though. With a stronger than average gust of wind threatened to blow her tips away as night fell though, Taylor bowed her head to the people who had followed the sapphire eyed man's lead and gathered around her, and headed back to the Hoof and Whiskey.

Looking over her shoulder she saw the young man, who Taylor figured was only slightly younger then she, herself, was trailing behind her. He probably lives nearby. So she kept her steady pace.

* * *

><p>"It feels close." Lenalee murmured, stopping in her tracks.<p>

"What?" Kanda asked testily.

"This way." As she headed east a faint prickling sensation crept its way up Lavi's arms.

They picked up the pace, dashing behind an even faster Lenalee, when Allen's right eyed seemed to whir. Its color changed to black and red circles and what seemed like a gear now hovered over it. "Akuma!" He yelled to his companions.

"Hurry!" Lenalee goaded.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Lavi mumbled so no one could hear him.

Turning from a well-lit street into a darker more sinister alleyway, the crew skidded to a halt to avoid crashing into the petite Lenalee from behind.

"What do you want?" A small, wild haired girl stood next to one of the few lanterns lighting the alley. It was like she was acting brave...but she was a really bad actress.

Leaning in close to her, a boy with bright sparkling blue eyes smiled lecherously. "Why, I want your Innocence of course."

"My, my...we have guests." The boy pointed.

Scared, not knowing the implications of what he really meant by her Innocence, Taylor whipped around to see the group of exorcists standing there. Her mouth opened with shock.

There was a metallic grinding which caused Taylor to look back. Behind her the boy's head had transformed into a chunky sort of rifle, his eyes next to the handle with the rest of his face. "Now..." He chopped out, his voice grated and maniacal at the same time. "Give me your Innocence."

"TAYLOR!" The voice screaming her name sounded so familiar, so lonely. Turning around again to check, the songstress saw the face of the blurred man clearly again. A smile lit her face up like the sun rising from the dark of night. And then she crumpled, the sound of a shot ricocheting through the alley.

* * *

><p>Looking up from the limp form of the songstress, the Akuma glanced at the red haired boy who half slumped to the floor in shock, his face contorted into a crazed mix of confusion and anger.<p>

"Lavi!" Allen shouted. "Lavi come on."

Lenalee was pulling on his arm, trying to get his attention.

"Did you remember?" Bookman asked quietly. "Do you know who she is now?"

"No... No, no, no! I wanted to know." The Junior Bookman slowly stood, as if he wasn't conscious of his movements...staggering as he firmly planted his feet. "Big hammer, little hammer, grow...grow...grow." There was a dead quality to his voice, the voice which was usually so chipper, that scared the other Exorcists. Krory took a step back. Allen and Lenalee took a step towards him, only to be stopped by Bookman. Kanda averted his eyes to give Lavi what little privacy with his emotions as could be had in such close quarters, no use in watching a man's despair.

Lavi's eyes seemed to burn as hot as his fire seals as her growled out. "I'll...kill...you."

The Akuma, George...or was it Mike, he didn't know the difference anymore, transformed. His skin gleamed of almost translucent lavender while he twisted and contorted. When his body settled into that of a mocked angelic cherub with a pot belly, small angular wings, a halo and a metal harp the color of dark matter, the Exorcists gasped at the clearly etched '4' on his stomach.

Mike, or maybe George, watched in amusement of the distraught one ran at him, hammer held high. As the man placed a ring of fire on the ground beneath the Akuma laughed.

"Now, now" He admonished, waving a finger in the air. "Do you really want to burn the pretty lady?"

_Burn her? She..._ in confusion Lavi glanced to where the girl he had called 'Taylor' lay. Still there. Not ash. _She was hit with an Akuma's bullet. Shouldn't she be ash? _But not so much as a single pentacle, which would have marked her body as the dark matter poison coursed through her veins, marred her pale skin. Then he noticed it, the rise and fall of her chest, blood flushing her face as it was pumped to and from her still beating heart.

Feeling his muscle relax in relief, but forgetting where he was, Lavi look forward just in time to see and feel Lenalee grab him and jump up as a sharp sound wave came from the harp held in the monster's hands.

"Focus you idiot," Bookman shot at him.

* * *

><p>Pain lanced through her body as Taylor regained the feelings in her limbs. It almost felt like her skin was drawing too much water from her system, draining her and logging her at the same time. There was a sound of clashing weapons to her left, too close for comfort, but she forced her eyes open to the strangest sight she had ever seen.<p>

There before her stood six individuals in matching black, silver trimmed coats. One was her blurred man, who she saw clearly, a mix of relief and brilliant anger on his face, along with the last traces of a keen sorrow. Recently felt sorrow.

A beautiful looking man drew his fingers down a katana that could be called similar to its wielder; beautifully lethal. "Mugen Activate." The words came out viciously; a clear declaration of murderous intent. There was no wind, but his hair, so dark it appeared blue in the light of that single lantern, swayed as he assumed a lunging stance. A feral sort of snarl distorted his countenance and his eyes seemed to crackle with loathing.

Next to him stood a small framed girl with short hair that almost seemed a very dark green. Her indecently short skirt danced from side to side as she clicked her heals, and called out, "Innocence Activate: Dark Boots." Dark, blood red anklets morbidly poured and molded around her feet like boots, little bloody butterflies sprouting from the heels of these new shoes. She had an air of determination about her as she lightly but effortlessly jumped to the roof of the building beside her.

Towards the back was a tall gentleman whose jet black hair was parted by a streak of white which was pointed high in the air, an animalistic quality lit his face, drawing eyes to long, pointed pearling white canines that almost drooled for whatever it was that stood in front of the group. Despite this he sounded cautious as he stated, "Innocence Activate."

A small older man with eyes rimmed in so much kohl he almost looked like a panda and brown loose fitting clothes pulled a sheaf of needles from his shirt sleeve. "Innocence Activate."

And then, stepping from the shadows, a white haired boy, no older then fifteen, stopped in front of the whole group. "Innocence Activate: Crown Clown." Out of thin air a silver mask appeared, looking the boy in the face. A white jagged cloak spun from it as it danced to land on his back. His left hand became almost mechanical, growing solid black nails, long and sharp. Spindly talons with devastating power. On his right hand he wore a pure white glove, which he had clenched in a tight fist.

Looking to her left, at the object of their deadly desire, Taylor fought the strong urge to scream. The metallic cherub strummed on a dark purple harp, sending a wave of ugly discord through her very core. _Such a sad song. _She couldn't help but feel it. The sadness, the feeling of abandonment and discard coming from this creature.

In horror she watched a battle unfold. As the wave of sound washed towards the strange group, a hammer landed from the rooftop on her left, blocking its destructive chord. As the cherub placed its fingers for another wave, the fanged man hopped over the hammer, launching himself right at the thing. Sinking his teeth into the monsters arm, the vampire drank deep of the dark blood flowing from the wound he had inflicted.

"Insects of the Underworld" Taylor snapped back to the Exorcists as the hammer was lifted and the swordsman let loose some sort of illusionary projectiles. The harp sounded again, and the white haired boy sent his mask and cloak flying to it, absorbing it fully.

_It's not fair...Why are they..._

"Heaven's Compass, North Crime." Needles flew at the Akuma surrounding the harp. "Now!"

_Why? It's so sad. It's crying... I can hear it..._

As the Exorcists converged on their prey, Taylor couldn't take it anymore. "STOP!"

It was odd, like time stopped almost. The swordsman's arms dropped, as if as heavy as lead. Her blurred man's hammer became travel sized while the girl's boots went back to being the anklets they had started as. The vampire's mouth clamped shut and it seemed he could not open it. The needle user's weapons turned in on him, one sending him into a light paralysis. The white haired boy's cloak wrapped around him, constricting his movement.

Meanwhile the Akuma, whose harp was free once more, just sat, stunned and still as the wild haired girl walked over to stand in front of him, hands held up in peace.

"You're sad aren't you?" She asked, releasing it from whatever it was she had done. Instantly it grabbed her up.

"You...you bitch! What did you do? My dark matter, my dark matter!" It wailed.

From the sounds of it the Exorcists were trying to break the iron clad bonds wrapping them. "So very, very sad."

"Don't look down on me!" The Akuma George, or Mike, it wasn't sure, tried to squeeze the fragile human in his hands, but found he could not.

"_M__e paenitet_... I'll end this for you." Her voice was barely a whisper as she told him, "_Vale_."

Time seemed to come back again as she was thrown to the floor...the Akuma imploding on itself and turning to ash.

As the exorcists gained the use of their Innocence again, the silence between them stretched further and further. They were exchanging looks of confusion, but one of them looked relieved. Almost euphorically so. It was Bookman who broke the silence first.

"It's been a while, young Taylor."  
>"Who are you? I don't know you..."<br>"Not yet, but soon." The comment was confusing to everyone, Lenalee and Allen glanced expectantly at Lavi for an explanation, but he seemed as bewildered as everyone else.

There was a soft but steady footfall coming in their direction when Taylor backed away, covering her face with her hair. "I shouldn't..."  
>"Now now pet." The purr was back in her voice as Taylor's Mistress strode towards them from the other side of the dim alleyway. "I said no talking, didn't I?"<p>

As the tall blonde figure, with her shaded eyes and sleek suit, walked up to group her skin became dark, a line of stigmata crosses forming at her brow. Pulling her shades off to clean them her eyes were golden.

"Lulubell!" Five Exorcists made ready to pick up arms again while Bookman merely sat back with the songstress as if interested more in the watching of the fight then the aiding of his allies.

Ignoring the threats the woman continued to spot her attention on Taylor. "It's a good thing I came early. Such disrespect should never be left unpunished."

Her mistress' hand turned into a whip that snaked around Taylor's leg, dragging her to the ground and pulling her across the dirty gravel.

"Stop." Taylor tried to command. "STOP." The cry of terror was in her voice as again and again she commanded. And again and again it failed.

"Now now pet. Don't lump me in with that pathetic Akuma, or these wormy Exorcists. Your Innocence won't work on a Noah. It won't work on me."  
>"Noah?"<p>

"A Noah," Bookman stepped in, "Is a descendent of Noah, who made the ark to save mankind from God's great flood. They possess many different abilities and are above the human race."

"Then..?"

"I, pet, am the Noah of Lust. And I have been watching you all this time." Morphing, changing, Lulubell became the manure spattered stable boy from Wicklow. "You see?"

"Wh..?"

"Because," the Noah answered, "I enjoy playing with mice. And now, since you have been so entertaining, I will allow this to progress to the next act. You want to know where you are from, who and what you are? I'll give you a treat...you were a good pet after all." Taking a small pouch from her pants pocket, Lulubell tossed it onto the floor where Taylor's unseeing right eye pressed painfully to the gravel. "Enjoy!"

And before the crew could assault the Noah, she had turned into a cat and ran away.

* * *

><p><em>Me paenitet = I am sorry<em>

_Vale = Bid Farewell_

Both are Latin.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

Opening the parcel after picking it and herself up off the ground, Taylor felt warm leather inside. Confused she pulled out an eye patch with intricately etched letterings. As she sat fingering those letters thoughtfully it felt like the situation had not come up, she was still in her little hotel room getting ready to sing. That's what she wanted. Not this debacle. The wizened old man was watching her still, a contemplative expression on his face.

The gentleman with the stripped hair was eyeing her cautiously as if she scared him. Sometimes his eyes would dart to one Exorcist or another, looking for help in his fearful state. The rest had slightly confused looks all around. Even her blur had adapted to the mood where once he had been happy seeming. And so Taylor crouched in shadows near a warehouse door in the alley everything had transpired in more frightened then the gentleman was, but too afraid to show it.

The memory of six Exorcists fighting the Akuma before them, their movements precise, graceful, frightening and pure, caused her to dwell in that terror. They fought like the Akuma they were trying to destroy.

The remembrance that her master had been a Noah, something that seemed frightening enough, and could shift her appearance into whatever she chose recalled to her how lucky she was that nothing further then whippings had marked her flesh. The slight shiver she felt course through her body brought attention from the younger white haired boy amongst the group of them.

* * *

><p>Allen had been watching the girl from the corner of his eye, confused, cautious and concerned. Not that he was worried for himself or his group of friends. He worried for the pure throated girl. She looked terrified and uncomfortable.<p>

Walking over to her without a clear plan on how to ease her tension, the boy with the cursed, Akuma sensing eye squatted down and held out his hand.

She stared at it, retreating further into the shadows. "It's ok; just don't retreat any further, please. There is only darkness there." He smiled his concern and it genuinely reached his eyes. That alone made her feel a little better.

"Who are you people?" She could have cursed out loud for the tremble in her voice.

"We are Exorcists."

But she took in the black, silver trimmed coats and wondered "Who are you really, like beyond Exorcists, being an Exorcist is a calling not a definition."

"Well," the boy temporized. "It's hard to describe a person so suddenly right?" When she nodded the teen continued. "We'll start like this." And he held his hand out again. "I'm Allen Walker. Here come with me. We don't bite...well...Krory does, but not people."

"You mean the vampire?"

"I am not!" the man said from a ways ahead. "Only one person was allowed to call me a Vampire, and she is dead. Eliade..." His voice became so mournful that Taylor couldn't bring herself to ask for more information. She would have liked to know.

_So his name is Krory._

The girl of the group came up to her, kneeling to look the singer in the eye. "Come on come meet people!" Her insistence along with the tugging she applied to Taylor's arm brought the always lonely girl to her feet. "My name is Lenalee Lee. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm..." But before she could finish Lenalee had dragged her over to the beautiful swordsman leaning against the brick of some family's home.

"This is Kanda. Please, just call him Kanda." Kanda look at her with his lip curled a bit, but more into a smirk then actual disgust. He didn't offer her his hand, so she didn't extend hers either.

"Hey." Was his only response.

"Don't worry!" The voice from the blurred man, who as now crystal clear was cheerfully playful as he also leaned against the house wall, hands behind his head. "That's about as welcoming as Yuu gets."

"Yuu?" Looking back to the swordsman, she was surprised to see a twitch and snarl marring his good looks. _Don't call him that I guess._

Lenalee moved in front of the swords man, a placating hand on his arm. "Not now, L..."

"My name is..."  
>"Ca..." Taylor began to answer, but the man cut her off.<p>

"Lavi." He fell back into a look of confusion, looking back to the kohl rimmed eyes of the older man.

"I must have confused you with..."

"No," Bookman said near a barrel of fish. "Just the wrong name."

"You wouldn't even throw me a bone on this one and now you tell her all these..."

_Not now. _Bookman thought to his apprentice.

Taylor struggled to take it all in. _They seem friendly enough._ She found herself thinking as she cycled through each person and their names.

_Beautiful swordsman, temperamental and barely tolerant: Kanda. _

_Girl with spunk and kindness: Lenalee._

_Easily scared and somehow sad: Krory._

_Young but powerful, friendly but kind of dark: Allen._

_Cryptic and calculative: Not introduced?_

_Sad and confused, but hinting at something much different: ...Lavi. _

_Why did I think his name was...?_

"I don't think we had a moment to be introduced." The old man had walked over to her and interrupted her thoughts like he knew their train. _They are hiding something, this man and the blur. _"I have had many names, but please call me Bookman."

Something stirred then, awakening another beast of a memory, blacking her out to recall.

* * *

><p>The sound of two collapsing bodies startled the group of Exorcists. "What in the name of..."<p>

"It's started."

* * *

><p>It was dark, the landscape of her dreams. The stars of countless possibilities and hopes replaced by a single nearly full moon, dull and lifeless. The sheaves of wheat slowly turned to dust, those stalks with all the memories written like prayers disappearing. <em>What the..?<em>

The pattern of this world broke into thousands of fragments, the differences lacerating her with the sharded remnants. And against pattern she ran, not knowing where she was, where she was going. The bland, never changing scenery fading in and out to the flow of her blinding tears filled with fear and confusion.

* * *

><p>He had been here before. That feeling overwhelmed him, twisted into him. It marked his very being, his soul. There was a star laden sky so full that it could almost be a darkened daylight. All about scattered sproutlings of wheat, growing rapidly in the night. Paper wheat with small writings, memories springing up, trying to enter his mind. But as he bent to read one, the words phased, became blurry and illegible.<p>

Confused he strode into the still growing field of paper wheat.

Striding further and further along, something changed in the mindlessly identical plot of dream land. A large paper tree stood atop a hill before him. He began to run to it.

* * *

><p>Before long, she found herself winded, slowing down to pace with her near panting breath. Ahead of her, like a beacon of discord, completely irregular to her patterns stood a tree, a non-existent wind waving paper leaves to the dream ground.<p>

With a curiosity that proved itself dangerous time and time again, she bent down and lifted a piece of discarded paper, a leaf from the many swirling towards her. Holding it timidly, half expecting the sheet to disintegrate in her trembling hands, she was surprised to read...

* * *

><p>He slowed upon reaching the tree on the deceivingly steep hill as a single paper leaf, large and supple, floated to him from an almost top branch. He almost discarded it without thought, sure that it would be unreadable like the rest of the words here. But that leaf grew heavier as he held it, almost begging for attention, and so almost afraid he read from it...<p>

* * *

><p><em>Lost time, be reconnected by the red string that governs fate. Bring forth that which you have lost. Slow but sure...Regain time.<em>

* * *

><p>The Exorcists stood watch over the two crumpled bodies, unsure of what was going on or if they could help.<p>

One after the other, at some point during their vigil, eyes flashed to the patch that had fallen from the strange girl's hand. As if their sight were drawn to it, and the golden words stitched to it. _Lost Time._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.

_The night was young, and so was he. An almost overwhelming nostalgia washed into the red head, and he was dragged under. _

"Who are you?" His tone was belligerent and defiant as the red headed youth stumbled upon her in a newly plowed field. "And why are you in the dirt!"

Propping herself up painfully on one elbow in confusion the girl stared blankly at him. She had rings of darkness under her eyes and blisters and lacerations on her bare feet. It was clear that all she had known for a very long time was trudging along, not even sleeping, just walking wearily to a vast unreaching nowhere.

She opened her mouth and tried to voice the answers to his questions that were more demands than anything. _I don't know. _She wanted to say. _I'm tired, I need to sleep._ But her throat was so dry nothing came out but a low croak. Hand flying to her neck in shock and fear, the child began to cower away from the boy as she tried unsuccessfully to hide behind short, jaggedly cut hair that she obviously remember to be longer.

"Wait here." The boy commanded and ran off, leaving the stray to obey without a second thought.

* * *

><p>As time passed the two of them became closer, the red head would nip snacks and keep the scraps from his dinner to bring to the field of growing wheat and the girl would sit and listen to him go on about what he had learned and witnessed for the day.<p>

"How do you remember everything so well?" Her abused vocal cords were working again though it had been nearly a full week since they had met, allowing for more than a one sided conversation.

The boy looked around conspiratorially, as if he were going to tell some grave secret and was terrified of being caught. "You can keep a secret right?" The girl, whose hair was beginning to grow into spiraling curls of blonde smoke, nodded, wide gray eyes eager for the knowledge. "I'm a Bookman." He whispered. "An apprentice anyway."

After an hour of explaining, the girl managed to grasp the basic idea of the Bookman Clan, and what was required lessons for an apprentice to accomplish. But then the sun was completely gone from the horizon and the young Bookman had to leave and head back to his clan leaving Taylor behind to think, as he always made her do.

* * *

><p>"Teach me!" she demanded a full month after they had met and become fast friends.<p>

"Huh?" Her friend asked lazily, chewing on the stalk of wheat where they sat under a tree on a hill above the field.

"Teach me!"

"Teach you what, girl?"

"How to be a Bookman."

"Why?" He asked, "It's nothing to get all worked up about, so why do you want to?"

"I want to know everything! All about the world and everything in it."

"It's not like you would be telling people what you know...We're secret historians logging the stories untold. I told you that."

"I want to know things no one knows. Even if they never know, I want to." He looked into her eyes from his back, green to gray. They both blinked their eyes before he smiled.

"Then we have the same reasons." She smiled to as they both pushed hair out of their faces. "I told ya right? The main requirement is being able to communicate with the other Bookmen. So just concentrate on the knowledge and how you want to record it really bad. Imagine a book in your mind, detailed and clear, and then imagine writing in it with a quill. If you do it right the knowledge is spread amongst the clan, and when you get better at it you can link to a specific mind and talk only to them."

"So I could talk to you like that." Her voice was coy as if suggesting how familiar and intimate that would be causing the boy to blush a pretty scarlet to match his hair. "You still haven't told me your name."

"Well, when I become a Bookman I will pick a new name with each assignment but for now I go by Callum." Again he grinned up at her, and asked..."What about you?"

"Mmm," she hummed softly. "I don't know."  
>"Tell me!" Callum insisted.<p>

"I really don't know!" The nameless girl shot back frustrated.

"Then your name is Taylor."

"Why Taylor, and hey! You can't just go choosing people's names!"

"Sure I can." Came the impudent response. "And its Taylor cause I want you to be around to sew my life together whenever I start anew. A tailor to my soul."

"How long did it take you to think of that corny line?" The newly named girl asked.

"'Bout ten seconds. Maybe I will get good at that sort of thing when I meet a girl to like. But seriously, Taylor...Stay by me ok? I'll protect you."

* * *

><p>Lenalee casted darting, concerned looks first at Bookman who, leaning against a barrel of fish, seemed unsurprised by the turn of events, and then to the simultaneous rise and fall of Lavi's and the strange girl with her mysterious connection's chests. "What will..?" She couldn't quite bring herself to voice the concern she felt.<p>

"It's like that." Kanda said all of a sudden. The others looked at him surprised. "Have you ever heard of the red string of fate? It's something from my country's culture. It's said to link fated hearts together."

"Never knew you were such a romantic, BaKanda." Allen snorted.

Bookman, though, surprised everyone by continuing in agreement. "Even when you cut it, try to burn it out, there is always that connection, and it will bring you together again and again. We Bookmen should have known. We don't like when one of our own suffers."

* * *

><p>Every day between the times that Callum left her for bed and when he appeared before her with food, drink and company, Taylor concentrated. Fruitless meditation in an effort to connect her soul with the Bookman Clan.<p>

"There is no soul. Leastwise not in this," Callum threw in when she vented her frustrations four days into her continuous attempts. "I'm telling you just..."

And then she felt it. A world of knowledge plunging into her mind, filling spaces she did not know were there. The torrent pushed and disheveled everything she had ever known, ever thought, and when her mind exhausted its resources and there was nowhere else to fit anything, all she had known before poured into the vast space the knowledge had left.

In that second, the mere second that this all occurred in, Callum dropped to his knees and screamed. Blank staring eyes gazed to a heaven he could not see as fact after fact; emotions uncounted pounded him into an almost comatose oblivion. "Stop IT!"

His scream reverberated through the plains as if they were in the mountains, bouncing off unseen walls that began to block the flow. Walls built from parties unknown. As Callum screamed on and on, a group of men ran towards him, concentration evident in everything they did. But all the concentration in the world would not erase the pain Callum broadcast, which Taylor felt and amplified through the link she had forged between them.

It was through that link that the whole Clan felt their bodies being dragged through the field by their hair, rocks digging into their backs and soil grinding into the wounds they inflicted. The wheat that she and Callum played and hid in throughout their friendship brushed unyieldingly against the Clan's arms.

At the same time they felt a warm pair of arms cradling them against a broad chest wherein beat a heart like a freight train.

The Clan felt themselves thrown bodily into a cold stone cellar that smelled of mold and sour cheese.

And in her fear Taylor felt Callum gently being lain down on a warm linen wrapped bed, a fire burning in the corner of the room and the scent of roasting pig wafting from the window nearby. She like the rest of the clan heard a grainy and confused voice whisper, "What have you done?"

* * *

><p>"I can't give you specifics, or reasons," Bookman told the Exorcists plainly. "Lavi committed a devastating crime when they were young. A crime that should have ended it. But not even the Bookman Clan knows everything."<p>

* * *

><p>The sun was out when the Bookmen felt a rough hand grabbed at their hair...Taylor was being dragged from the dark storage she had spent the night in. The sun stung pain into their eyes. At the same time, Lavi was dragged out of the room he had rested peacefully in.<p>

"It is a crime to bestow the heritage of Bookman on a woman. We are Book_men_. The minds of men are able to handle the link, able to assimilate the information. This child threatens the whole of the clan. A woman is not stable." The leader of the clan, a surprisingly young man with hair so pale it seemed silver and eyes chilled blue, intoned from the center of the gathering of huts beyond which stood the wheat fields which hid Taylor and kept her well.

"Judgment shall be passed on two." The leader continued. "One, to Callum, an Apprentice Bookman. Innocent, one who does not know the law cannot be charged by it. Consider this a lesson learned." Callum sagged in relief, unaware that his body had been so tense.

"Two: Child unknown, also innocent for the same reason." Callum crowed happily, "However..." The leader continued, silencing Callum abruptly. "There must be consequences. Deaden the link."

The last thing the Clan felt from Taylor was an overwhelming relief swiftly change to dread before everything from her went silent.

Bereft of the link that seemed almost too familiar now, Taylor could only stare across the wide middle ground of the clan's home to where Callum looked on in horror, uncertain.

"Punishment to be meted out to preserve the Clan: to the unknown girl who links her mind to ours without right...Death."

"WHAT!" Callum screamed from where he stood so far away. She could hear Callum struggle as a man wearing all black painfully grabbed her arms and dragged her to the fire pit in the direct center of the village.

"If we do nothing she will continue to broadcast. She is a girl, females cannot be Bookmen. They cannot control the link."

"Wait." The villagers pushed past him, ready to record everything that happened. "Wait!" Callum felt tears spark his eyes as he looked to the indifferent clan leader. "Please, wait!"

The executioner looked to the silver haired Bookman, stopping as he saw a hand forestalling action. "Well?"

"Anything!" He blurted out terrified. "Anything but her life. Take anything but that. Anything...and I will share the pain. It's my fault she learned. I taught her."

"But she went through the effort...It's like Eve and the apple. The knowledge was offered, she could not have eaten of it."  
>"She's the same as any of us. The same as me. The passion to know...she has it! Don't kill her because she wants to know."<p>

"It is for the best, Bookman cannot feel. It taints the records."  
>"Don't!" Callum pleaded.<p>

The clan leader crouched to his heels, thinking as he picked his lip. "Fine. Her eye. She should lose the connection if we take it from her with the link deadened forcibly."  
>"Mine too then." Callum said resolutely.<p>

"That is unnecessary."

"If you don't," Callum gulped audibly at the audacity of his conviction, "I will do it myself...and I will broadcast."

The head took in the threat and nodded, not bothering to look reluctant. "If that is your choice."

The man in black held Taylor with her hands behind her back as another in like garb came forward with a burning hot poker. Scared, but defiant of that fear, she didn't even blink as he lowered the poker directly in front of her right eye. The sound of a scuffle made the man pause and Taylor felt her mind open to the deadened link as Callum kicked one of the men concentrating on keeping her mind closed. The whole clan could feel the heat against their eyes as the young red haired boy used the moment to broadcast to her, and through the same link to all the Bookman, "I'm sorry Taylor. I love you."

The connection abruptly terminated and without wasting any time the executioner stabbed at the young girl's eye, deftly twisting her eye out and cauterizing the wound at the same time.

Collapsing, screaming, Taylor cried tears from her left eye and blood from her right. Looking up in shock, she heard Callum say calmly "Now me." He took a step forward, standing over her. "I won't 'cast. Not if you do it."

Again the executioner looked to the Leader of the Bookman Clan, and again the young man nodded. So, swiftly the man reheated his poker and repeated his actions. Callum dropped to the ground in shock and pain, but managed to look at Taylor with his left eye, reach out to her and mutter with more feeling then he thought possible..."Eye for an eye."

While the children were knocked out from pain and the stress of the ordeal, the clan used medicinal secrets to erase the memories of the two, both of the incident and each other.

Because a Bookman cannot feel, and resentment is a feeling, hatred a powerful one.


	8. Chapter 8

Lost Time is fan written, based sometime after the anime D. Gray-man. I, the author, own nothing recognizable.

* * *

><p>Lavi, dismissed from the memory abruptly, felt reality swirl at and around him, a vortex of whens and where's.<p>

"That's..." He heard Lenalee begin in her caring, concerned fashion.

"No way!" That was Allen, shocked and angry. _So he is telling them._ The act was unusual; Bookman did not frivolously spread knowledge. Things were generally on a need to know basis, even for his apprentice.

Slowly opening his good eye, the young historian instinctively sought Taylor's still unconscious form. Upon noting that she was still there, his green gaze swiftly shifted to the Exorcists before him but before he could say any of the things he wanted to, the sounds of Taylor rousing distracted him and the others.

The anger in her eye could have set fire to the buildings around them with the heat of her gaze. Slowly she stood, and directed that anger directly at Bookman, unbridled and unwavering. The gray of her eye shimmered, the emotion slowly morphing from anger to frustration, frustration to sorrow, then finally to acceptance.

"I'm not free to leave am I?" Taylor asked calmly. "This Innocence...it's leading me somewhere right?"

"The Black Order." Bookman nodded. Turning to Lavi he asked, "And you?"

Without looking at anyone in particular the red head nodded, "I'll see for a bit longer."

"Well then!" Krory exclaimed, clapping his hands together decidedly. "I propose a meal."

Much to her shock, Taylor's stomach growled sourly. "I think I could eat," was her response.

* * *

><p>The walk to the Exorcists inn was filled with the silence of awkward expectations; everyone was convinced the end result of any conversation so no one spoke.<p>

"Shoot, I have to get my stuff still!" Taylor exclaimed, attempting to turn tail in the thick atmosphere and run back to her little world of singing on docks.

"I'll go get it." A man in a strange, cream colored jacket offered. As he turned and jogged off Taylor caught an eye-full of a big metal box the man had strapped to his back.

"What exactly..?" She began.

"That's Osmond," Allen explained happily, "He's one of the Finders for this mission."

"Uh...huh." Taylor muttered, not really understanding.

"Finders precede us to mission locations and see what they can find out about the mission and the possibility that Innocence is involved in whatever incident we are investigating."

"Innocence...what is Innocence?" By that time the group had entered the small inn the Exorcists were staying in, voices lowering as they sat in the restaurant that made up the lower half of the establishment.

"Innocence was called the 'Crystal of God' by those who used it seven thousand years ago against our current enemy." Lavi explained levelly. "It's the only thing that can hurt Noah and their Memory and also the only thing that can save the souls trapped in Akuma, like the one we fought a bit ago."

"Souls trapped in Akuma..?"

"The Millennium Earl uses the despair of people with lost loved ones to create Akuma." Allen said darkly, a terrifying look on his face. "He shows himself to someone lost in sorrow at their loss and has them call to the spirit of their departed, promising that the person will be brought to life again. From there the spirit gets trapped in a metal framework and is ordered to kill the one who called it, together they become an Akuma."

Taylor wanted very badly to ask at the dark expression on the boy's face but Lavi delicately caught her eye and shook his head softly. 'Leave it.' He mouthed.

"The Millennium Earl," Bookman supplied before she could ask "is the mastermind behind the Noah." It was a simple answer that ended her string of questions as a barmaid came up to take their order.

"We'll take nine of everything!" Allen said before anyone could open their mouths.

"Nine?" Kanda scoffed, "why nine?"

"It's a nice round number."

"No its not..." Taylor threw in. Kanda looked triumphant and pissed at the same time somehow as Allen pouted. But the maid had walked off with her order in hand already. Looking down at the extensive menu the songstress couldn't help but ask, "Isn't it gonna be a bit much with only us here."

"Not with two parasitics here," Lenalee offered with a laugh.

"Three." Krory corrected her with a loaded look at Taylor.

"Parasitic?" Taylor could feel the second round of questions coming on before she could stop herself.

"There are three types of Innocence weapons. Equipment types are weapons that the order has made from raw Innocence. Crystal types are weapons that _were_ Equipment types but evolved and ingested so that the Innocence fuses with the blood of the Accommodator making the Exorcist's blood the weapon. And then there are Parasitic types. With Parasitics the Innocence is already fused with the body and existing on the Accommodator. An Accommodator," Bookman explained without being asked to, "is someone compatible with an Innocence. Innocence is very particular and will only work with one person each. You, my dear, are a Parasitic. Your weapon, it seems, is your voice."

"And," Allen concluded as the food arrived, taking about a fourth of it for himself, and passing another fourth to Krory, "Parasitics require a_ lot_ of food."

"Oh, there is no way I could..." Taylor tried to refuse the fourth that he shoved at her, but for some reason it was just too appetizing, and it felt all of a sudden as if she had never eaten.

* * *

><p>Taylor was still feeling embarrassed by the sheer amount of food she had consumed for dinner that night as she followed the young Miss Lenalee Lee up to the second floor of the hotel the exorcists were staying in, apologizing all the way for her somehow bottomless stomach.<p>

"Enough," Lenalee finally stated with a little laugh. "It's really nothing to worry about. And you forget how commonplace it is for me to see with those two constantly around for missions."

"Are you guys always together then..? The group of you I mean."

"Mhmm, one for all and all for one, as i'twere. They truly are a wonderful group too, you'll see."

"You mean I'll be staying with you?" The golden haired girl wasn't sure if that had a charming or unpleasant appeal at the moment. People to care for her, people to care about.

"I don't see why not, you'll definitely be seeing a lot of us for a while anyway. And Lavi..." Lenalee turned to wink at her only to see the singer crouched in on herself, a tragic look in her single gray eye.

"I don't think," Taylor began before the female Exorcist could even ask, "that I should be near him. He has his histories to record, I shouldn't get involved. And it's my fault he has only one eye. If it weren't for me he wouldn't have suffered like that."

"I don't think he..." Lenalee began, moving to put an arm around the dejected girls shoulder and help her up.

"I don't think you understand Taylor." Came the serious tone of the man in question. "It's _my _fault _you_ only have one eye. Like I said in that memory. 'Eye for an eye.'"

"Don't say you don't regret it..."

"Regret it? 'Course I do. But think about it, we would have had to part soon after we met either way, but we share things now no one else can. Memories link us in a way that no one else is linked. Get some sleep now though, we are headed to the docks and boarding a ship at noon." Lavi shooed the girls into Lenalee's room and headed down the hall to where he was roomed with Bookman.

* * *

><p>"Do you really regret it?" Came the muffled voice of his mentor from behind several stacks of books. "Meeting her?"<p>

"Of course not, but I do regret bringing her into the world of the Bookman Clan. It's my fault she lost an eye and went through all this hardship."

"Did it ever occur to you that considering the state she was in when you found her, she had already experienced hardship? That it was not something new to her?"

"Doesn't mean this should have been added to her life."

"You two are bound..."

"Bookmen don't believe in fate though, do we?"

"There is fate and then there is Fate. Mankind has a habit of using fate to blame occurrences and happenings. 'I did something wrong because I met a temptress by fate.' That is what Bookmen don't believe in, the actions we do are not governed by fate like that. But sometimes, rare times, 'I met someone by Fate', 'someone came to me through Fate.'" The sound of a heavy book being shifted on a wooden surface in the direction of Bookman's voice was recorded by 'bookman Lavi' while the boy tried to digest the difference of Fate and fate.

"Very few things," Bookman continued, "are ever directed by Fate, but that girl, her coming...and her coming back; to you...those are governed by Fate."

Lavi smiled to himself as Bookman reached from behind the stacks of books and turned off the small lamp lighting the room. "Night gramps."

* * *

><p>Taylor woke from sleep with a start and a silent scream, her mouth wide with no sound, a lesson learned living with the syndicate. It had been a vivid dream of blood flowing from the corpses of her new companions as snow fell, silent jury to heaven's judgment.<p>

The sun was out, a bare sliver on the horizon, and the girl knew no one would wake for a few hours more, but she feared sleep. "Nothing to it." She mumbled quietly before rising from her twisted sheets and donning the last dress her master had left her, a black and white paneled affair with wooden toggles for buttons going down the length of it.

It was cold when Taylor stepped out of the inn, with a wave to the innkeeper so that he would see her leave, but the air promised future warmth so she was not worried too much.

Out of habit she had brought the tin collection pail that was her constant companion and set it up at her feet with a nostalgic shrug. The morning rush crowded the docks but Taylor suddenly picked up her pail and began to walk away.

_Always the dock...But no one controls me now. It's the square today, finally._

There were little shops along all four sides of the city square of Bray and a decently sized well right in the middle. Taylor looked at all the people milling about, going into and out of the shops or gossiping at the well, and smiled to herself as she set her pail up out of the way.

As Taylor sang the sun rose and people gathered to listen. _This is happiness_. She thought to herself. _This is all I need._

* * *

><p>"Gah where is she?!" Allen moaned.<p>

"Don't look at me! She was gone when I woke up this morning." Lenalee protested.

"Did you check the docks?" Krory asked a bit timidly.

"That was the first place we looked." Allen whined.

"Where's that stupid rabbit?" Kanda asked all of a sudden.

"Lavi..?" Lenalee looked to where the apprentice had been moments before and pointed to a note pinned to the wall.

_Town Square ~.^_

_ ~Lavi_

"Must he do that?" The swordsman snarled as the Exorcists barreled out of the room, an unhastey Bookman bringing up the rear.


End file.
